Premonition

In air in California was thick enough to be cut with a knife. I sat in the kitchen of my father's house, dragging my spoon through the bowl of cereal that sat on the island, my stomach too jittery to eat. The entire kitchen was wood and granite, full of warm colors to give the manufactured setting the feeling of an inviting home. I didn't feel it.

The stillness was interrupted by a sharp presence as Heather stormed in, forcefully dropping a purse on the table and swinging open the refrigerator. A compact of makeup fell to the floor, but the ping was inaudible to her over the music she blared from her headphones. I considered telling her it fell, but decided to play the safe route and pretend I hadn't heard, so I stirred my cheerios some more.

Julia entered after her. Tall and slim, I imagined that Julia embodied the picture of California house wives, although I had hardly seen any other. Her skin was sun kissed, cheeks dotted with the occasional freckle, eyes bright and loving. Her brown hair looked soft and shiny, pulled back into a loose ponytail behind her. She smiled, revealing a slight dimple.

"Good morning Jude! Are you all set for your first day?" I nodded, spooning cereal into my mouth in a quick attempt to avoid saying anything revealing. I actually was not prepared for my first day of senior year, which was supposed to happen a year ago, and preferably in New Jersey. "Good!" She reached into her bag, shuffling around and giving me an opportunity to stealthily make my way to the sink and dispose of the remaining breakfast. Heather sat at the island, loudly unwrapping a chocolate granola bar and digging in.

"Usually I drive Heather, but I didn't think you would like to be dropped off by your mom on your first day." Julia said, revealing her car keys. At least she was trying. "You know the way?"

I nodded, taking the keys. "My Dad has shown me." I turned to the side of the house, where the kitchen met the entrance way and grabbed the oversized, leather purse that Julia had purchased for me, specifically for my new school. In New Jersey we had backpacks.

"And you're all set?" Heather stood, grabbing her things without being told. I nodded again, pretending to fumble around and get ready as the three of us headed out the door. "Have a great day! Just call if you need anything. And you'll have Heather there." I waved and unlocked the Nissan, followed by Heather, who had not spoken a word that morning. Julia waved as we backed out of the driveway in silence. I listened to the sound of Heather's music blaring.

~~~
I found St. Francis without any issue, but struggled to find a place to park in the student parking lot. It was overflowing with sleek, black cars that I couldn't name for the life of me, so I ended up pulling out and parking a block away on a residential street. Heather didn't look pleased, but surprisingly, said nothing.

Walking in, I was surprisingly glad we were all required to wear the same uniform. A year ago, the idea had seemed like an effort to curb individuality, but today I saw it as an opportunity to blend. In the parking lot I saw lots of bags that looked a lot like mine, along with long and shiny hair like Julia's. I tucked a piece of hair that had escaped my ponytail behind my ear. Fly-aways.

Kids piled in, greeting each other with cheek kisses and excited squeals as I wished for New Jersey. I had been the youngest junior in my grade because my mother had insisted that 8-year old me was too smart for second grade, so I skipped it. She had that sense of confidence about her, a glowing aura that I missed more and more each day. She died almost two years ago.

Entering the school, I was silent in a hallway of chatter. I looked for Heather, to ask for directions to the office, but she had disappeared into the crowd of identical uniforms. I took the first left, escaping the crowd of incomers and darting into a less jumbled hallway.

After a few random turns and directions from one teacher, I managed to find the main office, where a plump blond woman behind the desk got me my class schedule and a map, and directed me down the hall. On paper the school seemed to be shaped like multiple rectangles, linked together at the center, but in person it was a jumble of white tiles and scattering students. Once I tried to ask for directions, but the boy didn't look up. Finally, about ten seconds after the bell, I found my way to my first class. The teacher, a lanky man with wide rimmed glasses, didn't look up as I slipped in late and took a seat at a lab desk.

He stood and closed the door but did not attempt to speak over the chatter of old classmates sharing stories of their summer. I mudded through my purse, trying to look busy among the crowd of strangers. The teacher dragged chalk against the blackboard, slowly forming the words "Mr. Dean" and "AP Chemistry". He faced the class and clapped twice, causing a wave of silence to echo throughout the room. The class, with the exception of me, returned his claps with two of our own.

"I'm Mr. Dean," He said, taking a seat at his desk. "And this is Chemistry. I'm taking attendance." A light whisper grew as he started down a list of names. Katelyn Abreu was first, she sat at the left of the classroom and wore glasses, her face framed by a mass of deep brown curls. When he called Jude Augustine, I partially raised my hand. Mr. Dean did not raise his eyes, but continued. Daniel Clawson sat in the back and looked like he lifted weights in his sleep. Samantha Ho had a pile of books the size of a skyscraper and could probably take this class in her sleep. Allison Pennell had long red hair and raised her eyebrows like a supermodel. Her manicure was perfect.

My eyes followed each student, trying to get a grip on the scene of my new and elite private school. My eyes darted to each name as it was called, watching hands raise, voices call out "here!" and stories told with vivid hand gestures. After every name was called, Mr. Dean turned and typed away on his computer. The volume raised as I turned to survey the class. Twisting in my chair, my eyes glanced over the crowd as the voices grew so loud I couldn't make out the words. My eyes focused on the one girl who had not been called: she sat directly behind me, with long dark hair reaching the collar of her uniform. A steady stream of blood ran from the part in her hair down to her face, bringing focus to eyes, which stared directly into mine. The whites of her eyes became brighter and washed out off the other colors till I couldn't see anything. Closing my eyes, I felt my body sink out of my chair as I passed out.